Disclaimer: Not mine. Still.
Author's Note: Well, I know I've pretty much disappeared but I'm back now. And I know I normally do EO but this story is my new obsession, AO. And now that Casey is leaving I feel that I need to do a story to bring Alex back!
Alex's POV
The blaring alarm wakes me and I yawn smacking it until it turns off. Before I left NYC I was a great morning person, I guess I picked up the crankiness from her.
Sighing, I stand and stretch, my vertebrae popping sharply. I pull her old NYPD shirt over my tank and her old boxers over my boy briefs then walk into the other bedroom down the hall.
When I open the door I can't help but smile. Antonio is sprawled across his bed with one arm hanging over the edge and his face buried in the pillow with his sheets and comforter on the floor.
On the other bed my baby, Jayden, lays curled up in the fetal position with his covers up to his chin. I still can't believe he's here, with me, and mine. His wavy brown hair curls slightly over his ears and flips up at the back of his neck, his olive toned skin glistens in the sunlight from the window across the room. He looks just like his mom.
When I came back for the trial and Olivia stayed with me in that hotel room, we had a long talk. Our feelings resurfaced and we made love once again. Laying on our sides staring into each other's eyes she made a confession. She wanted a baby. She had gotten some of her eggs frozen and wanted me to carry her child.
At first I had adamantly said no. I didn't want to bring a child into the world I live in, constantly moving, always being in danger and having to watch my back was hard enough. But when I looked into her eyes I could see how much she wanted that, needed it even. So I agreed. Her eggs were shipped to my new location and I began trying to get pregnant as soon as Antonio and I were settled.
The in vitro worked on the first try. Twelve and a half months after I left NYC for the second time, I gave birth to Jayden Alexander Benson-Cabot. He had to go by a different last name, Anderson, but the Feds allowed his birth certificate to have the correct last name.
Now I live in a little suburban two bedroom, two bathroom house outside of Tulsa. I go by Jamie, Antonio, now eleven years old, goes by Desmond, and Jayden, who is 5, uses his real name.
After waking up my son and "nephew," I get out Jayden's clothes and leave them to dress as I do the same.
Thirty minutes later I walk out into the kitchen in jeans and a cobalt blue empire waist shirt. Antonio is eating Fruity Pebbles and Jayden is eating Coco Puffs. They're both dressed in Yankees shirts and khaki shorts.
"Alright guys, you ready for school?" I smile as they both groan but frown when I hear a knock at the door.
Grabbing the handgun out of a high drawer that the boys can't reach I motion for them to be quiet and stay put. I check the peephole and sigh seeing Agent Hammond's stoic face on the porch.
I wrench the door open and give him a fake smile, forgetting the gun in my hand, "Agent, to what do I owe the pleasure?"
He eyes the gun in my hand but looks me straight in the eye, "You can go home Alexandra."
Oh.
My.
God.